


Suffering For Art

by Deathstar510



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Established Relationship, Ezri's just kind of naked for this whole thing but there's no #Adult Content involved, F/F, Fluff, Just the age old tradition of painting ur lesbian lover, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathstar510/pseuds/Deathstar510
Summary: Ezri learns that modeling isn't as easy as it looks when she tries a new date idea with Ziyal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for Round 8 of the trek-rarepair-swap! Tidesandmoons on tumblr asked for Ezri/Ziyal and I jumped at the chance, hopefully this little fluff piece meets the need!

Curzon had modeled for a nude painting once, on one of his many… many trips to Riza. He’d come away with nothing but praise for the whole concept. Sitting around naked for several hours followed by an impressive night with the talented young artist – not as impressive as the night that ultimately proved too much for his old heart but it certainly ranked somewhere in the top five.

With a success like that, how could the memories not spur Ezri into making the same proposition? She may not have had much experience of her own in what made a good date idea but that was supposed to be the whole point of the Joining. Taking experience from the symbiont’s past lives. Not specifically ‘going on good dates’ maybe but that part was at least an excellent bonus.

Ezri had thought that it all made perfect sense when she was coming up with it and while she was actually bringing it up, but somewhere in all of that she probably should have bothered to look closer at the memories of what modeling actually consisted of instead of focusing on the aftermath. That was where the distinct recollection of strained muscles from lack of movement and the frustration of itches that couldn’t be scratched lived.

Mostly, though, it was the heat that made it hard. She could put up with the rest of it, as Curzon did, but the heat just took everything and doubled the pain.

Ziyal had asked her before starting if it was alright to use a Cardassian holoprogram – the paints she’d chosen to practice were straight from Cardassia and they couldn’t set easily in a cool environment. Ezri had, foolishly, said yes without thinking about just how hot the average Cardassian environment was. Far worse than a couple hours of sitting out in Riza’s sun, that was for sure.

Even though her pose was supposed to be restful, stretched out on her back on a blanket, she’d still sweat more just laying there than she ever did going through one of Worf’s morning calisthenics programs. On level five.

She itched, she burned, and along with completely underestimating the heat she’d managed to underestimate just how awkward sitting naked on a platform in the middle of a holosuite was. Ziyal may have seen everything here before but that didn’t make her feel any less nervous.

For her part, Ziyal seemed to notice none of this. Not the awkwardness, the heat, or the state of her model. She had an artist’s focus, eyes moving rapidly from canvas to Ezri, taking in nothing but the details she wanted to capture before moving to paint them. It’d be fascinating, really, the way that she worked with such a fierce, intense gaze. An artist in their element was a sight to see and treasure. If Ezri were just suffering a little bit less she could appreciate it fully.

But as it turned out, two hours of this was about the limits of her tolerance. Ezri let out a miserable little noise. “Ziyal? Any chance we can break for a bit?”

The artistic spell broke the instant Ezri spoke up. Ziyal startled out of her own little world and right back into this one and, in the same second, stood up. The sight of Ezri swimming in her own sweat catapulted her straight to worry. “Oh my… Oh, I should have given you a break sooner than this. Computer, lower the temperature ten degrees. And start up a light breeze!”

She hurried over as Ezri sat up on the edge of the modeling platform. The heat started dying down at Ziyal’s command and the first taste of wind made Ezri’s skin prickle. It was the best feeling she’d had all day or, in fact, possibly the best feeling she’d had in her entire life. Maybe even in Dax’s entire life. Who needed things like treasured memories of marriages or children when she had this exact moment of finally not being overheated?

Still, she looked to the canvas, briefly forgotten on its easel. “That’s not going to mess with the paint is it?” She hadn’t sat through two hours of modeling just for the painting to come out ruined because of a little breeze.

“The paint will be fine, it may need longer to dry at this temperature but it won’t ruin anything.” Ziyal went for the edge of the blanket only to drop it when she found just how sweaty it was. Instead she pulled her sleeve over her hand and gently dabbed at Ezri’s forehead. “It’s you I’m worried about. Do you need me to get you anything? I can get you a drink.”

Ezri waved her off, stretching out. Her joints cracked at the motion and she let out a little groan. “No, no. Just. I think I need to be able to move around for a little bit. The air’s helping.”

Ziyal frowned. “You’re sure? You’re not just saying that to keep me from worrying, right?”

“I’m sure.” Ezri patted the platform beside her, inviting Ziyal to sit. “Besides, I’m pretty sure if I was trying to keep you from worrying I already messed that one up.”

“No, I’m the one that did that.” Even in her new position, Ziyal kept up the gentle dabbing with her sleeve, seemingly intent on wiping away every bit of sweat. “I’m sorry, I just got so wrapped up in everything that I didn’t realize just how hot it had gotten for you.”

Bringing a hand up to Ziyal’s, Ezri intertwined their fingers, gently bringing it down to rest between them. Finally she was starting to feel like she’d reached the right temperature again – Ziyal’s scales, having soaked up the holosuite’s heat, felt pleasantly warm against her hand instead of uncomfortable. 

“This was my idea,” she reminded her. “And I okayed the temperature too. I’m feeling better, promise.”

Ziyal made a noise like she wasn’t quite sure she believed that, but she didn’t try to pull her hand away so she could fuss over more. Sitting up and holding hands was, somehow, making the entire nudity thing much less awkward. Ezri had done holding hands naked before. Being at the center of the holosuite and the attention for a painting, that was new.

To think. Curzon had done this outside. She would pay to have that little shame, it would make getting through life much less stressful.

“You’re sure?” Ziyal asked again, her voice low and cautious.

Ezri leaned in, bopped their noses briefly together, and smiled. “I’m sure. I’m fine.” She turned her head very slightly back to the painting. “But I do want to see how that’s coming out. Show me?”

Ziyal smiled and stood, using their linked hands to pull Ezri up to her feet.

Maybe this would be worth it after all.


End file.
